Two darkened hearts were to become one, but they were separated by the threads of Fate.
Now they find themselves stranded in a cold, hostile world alongside only a handful of survivors, ruled over by a dark, omnipresent force.
Though they are not to...
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Around us were the shadows, lit only by the blood-red light emanating from my blade. We seemed to be in a carved-out stone tunnel, an artificial cave that I assumed was created in the time five years ago when magic was still useful. Until we went in further, however, I would have no idea what it was used for, or if it was a valid escape route.
Jolly was on the ground next to me, breathing calmly now. I had no idea how much he was truly hurt, but any event like that would no doubt be more than taxing on one's mental health. I sat down with him, keeping an ear out for any sounds that meant that more of them were coming. The trapdoor had led to a ladder down in to this tunnel, and I was unsure whether those things could climb a ladder or not. Still, they showed intelligence, who was to say they could not?
"Jolly," I whispered. "You climbed down by your own power. How are you feeling?"
"Been better, scrag." He croaked quietly. It was clear the full ramifications of being nearly eaten alive were finally settling in. I sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder carefully. He did not recoil, but I regretted not taking in to account the possibility that the shoulder could have been injured. We needed to move, but I could not take the risk that came with being alone in unfamiliar, hostile territory. Neither could he.
"We must move soon." I said. "I do not know how much time we have before they find us. Can you walk?"
"Slowly, but yeah." Jolly answered, standing on his own, beginning to breathe normally. This feeling of power over his own movement was clearly helping him. I needed to be as subtle of a crutch as possible to truly aid him.
I stood with him, peering in to the blackness ahead.
"Let us move." I said, turning to him.
He nodded, an expression of a strange, depressed calm being the only thing I could see of him in the red light. We then made our way forward.
The passage was rectangular in shape and carved entirely of stone, with a single, solitary, and foreboding door at the end of it. At this point, there was no accurate judgment that could be made about its true purpose.
The strangest thing about it all was that the door at the end was strangely... warm. Placing a hand on the doorknob, I turned it, and it was thankfully unlocked.
We entered one of the strangest rooms I had ever seen in my life. The floor was made entirely of metal with holes punched in it in a pattern that allowed me to see, far below, raging rivers of burning liquid metal. It seemed, possibly, that we were in some sort of metalworking factory.
"What in the hells is this place?" Jolly asked rhetorically. If he did not know the answer to that question, we were doubtless in a very bad position.
"I do not have any idea." I said, stepping in to the room. To the left, I noticed instantly a hallway that seemed to open up in to the main area of the factory. Strangely, the metal grate that was the floor seemed to be a regular, stylistic choice for the entire building. Other than the sounds of our breathing, and the sounds of the roaring fires safely below us, there was no noise. In fact, one could even find some sort of calm in this set of circumstances, if they tried. One final detail that I had failed to see on a first inspection, however, caught my eye. At the far end of the room we were currently in lay a metal workbench, on which was the same mark that was on my hand. I walked over to it and placed my hand on it instinctually, being promptly met with a strange vision.
~~~
It was a vision of fire, of smoke, of ash, of blood. I was pulling a young man out of a wrecked carriage and in to the charred grass to the side of the road. He was so young, and I couldn't let my past happen to me again.
This was Theris, the Bloodied, an up-and-coming battlemage from an academy a long way away. There was something about him, something that told me never to let him go.
He struggled, called me a monster, swore that he would curse my lineage for a hundred generations. His magic fired wildly, missed me several times. His cinnamon skin, blackened with smoke, was otherwise smooth and well groomed. Beautiful even. He was a noble, and he would be worth more alive than dead.
A good, gauntleted punch to the face put his lights out, and he became like a sack of potatoes in my hands: dead weight. I shook my head and wondered aloud just how foolish I was for keeping him alive. But even if he wasn't worth much, maybe he could still carry my bags.
Still, one strange thought came to the forefront and stayed there, planting itself rudely at the front of my brain: why didn't he just kill me with a touch-based spell?
~~~
I found myself in a void once more, floating in space. A second star appeared beside the first, the script underneath reading "The Metalworks" in flowing, beautiful handwriting. I was compelled to reach out and touch this star, and so I did. Still, the text that accompanied the star which read "The Collapse" was still present.
I was gently nudged back in to reality, where Jolly was still standing by my side. I looked to him and asked:
"Have you ever touched one of these symbols?"
He looked at the table inquisitively and then shook his head.
"Sorry scrag, don't see what you're talkin' about."
"I put my hand on the table, Jolly, and was met with a strange vision, one that seemed to be a... sequel of sorts to the first one I had seen."
"Visions?" Jolly asked. "Heard about those bein' common among the marked ones, 'specially when they go to new places. Dunno what they mean, though. What're they about?"
"Me, I think." I replied. "I do not remember the events clearly, however. There is a soldier, mercenary, someone that seeks my life, but ultimately saves it. I am... attracted to myself."
"Sorry, scrag, I'm afraid that's a fantasy you can't really fulfill. Not without magic, at least. Who knows what those reclusive mages really do all day anyway?"
Who would have known that deep in the bowels of this strange, new, hostile and corrupt world, I would finally crack the biggest smile I had in five whole years.
"Let us save our lives, Jolly." I said, patting him on the back. "Let us save our lives."
